


The Tyrant

by TheQuietRanger



Category: SHAKESPEARE William - Works, Winter's Tale - Shakespeare
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23131036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQuietRanger/pseuds/TheQuietRanger
Summary: Magic is real as Paulina adequately demonstrated at the end of A Winters Tale. But how do kings react when faced with powerful women?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	The Tyrant

“Out! A mankind witch! Hence with her, out o' door” - A Winters Tale. Act II scene III.

“If this be magic, let it be an art Lawful as eating.” - A Winters Tale. Act V scene III. 

It was the middle of winter and he was hot. The castle wall at his back was frost white and the moon dimly reflected in the ice-cloaked lake yet sweat beaded his brow and stung his eyes. A purpose-built platform gave him ample view of the shuffling crowds before him. Two groups separated by armoured and spear-wielding Sicilian guard. To his left, emissary's from the peninsula, from Palermo, even some from Malta, and Tunis. Men of high rank or wealthy merchants in political office. The harbour was packed and the treasury had been ransacked to pay for the cargo they brought as well as to appease the fisherman who had to find safe mooring elsewhere for two days each quarter. To his right the cargo and also the reason for the guards. A host of terrified women of all ages some holding tight to young children. Hemmed in like cattle. His stage was ringed by torches and two large burning pyres either side disturbed the air in rolling waves of heat. The pitch-black, high collared leather coat didn’t help matters. He raised his hands for silence. 

“Welcome. Welcome to you who seek to purge your kingdoms of darkness. Welcome to you who embrace light and are helping to build this, my grand design. Soon a new round of cleansing will begin. You will be paid handsomely for your…” He paused and gazed at the huddling, weeping crowd on his right. One of the children, a young girl of around six years old was crying despite the best efforts of her mother. “…contribution.” 

He motioned to the guards and the castle doors swung inward. In practised unison, they tilted their spears and marched the cargo inside slamming the doors behind them. There was always a pause before the nobles were ushered towards the hospitality tents. Just enough time for them to be able to hear the screaming. He always hurried in by the small gate and raced up to a viewing gallery to watch. He had to reassure himself by watching. 

In the inner courtyard, a lot of faces were breaking into smiles now or at least looking more relaxed. Camillo, as usual, was enthusiastically preparing them for their chorus. 

“OK everyone, performance isn't over yet. I want a good range of soprano shrieking mixed with tenor wailing and a little baritone howling from those who can manage it.” 

Many deep breaths were drawn and a cacophony of sorrow sounded out into the night. As usual, he proceeded up to the ramparts where Paulina was watching the audience react to the sounds of anguish filtering through the castle walls. She studied their faces as if committing them to memory. The righteous ones. The greedy ones. She seemed to pay special attention to the excited looking ones. Soon Autolycus appeared. Strutting like a peacock in his finery and waving the crowd towards their luxurious lodgings. Simpering and cosying up with the rich and here and there ensuring they were slightly less rich. Paulina smiled, “Now there goes a man who loves his work.”

He frowned. “Maybe he might show gratitude by paying his taxes for once. We almost emptied the treasury paying for this batch”.

“And we’ll soon fill it again when they come sneaking around the back for their illicit elixirs. Having purged their kingdoms of evil witches they'll suddenly find there's no one left who can make a half-decent potency brew. The biggest hypocrites always have the deepest pockets it seems.”

He followed her down into the kitchens where the smells of cooked vegetables and baking bread filled the air. The crying girl from before looked a lot happier as she tucked into a bowl of nourishing soup. Her mother looked apologetically at Paulina. 

“We came here instead of joining in with the screaming I'm afraid. She was a little upset so...” Paulina smiled and hugged the woman. “You did the right thing.” The girl was staring at him with head cocked to one side as she dipped her bread. Her mother ruffled her hair. 

“You see Veru it wasn't real. It was play-acting. Just a story.”  
Veru seemed caught by the expression on his face. “A sad story?” Paulina beamed down at her. “No a happy one. Come on Leonties you can help me gather ingredients while I visit Antigonus. 

The guards stood to attention as they passed the boundary into the forest. Whether for him or for her he was no longer sure. Their job was a lot easier since she had unexpectedly brought the guardian here. News travelled fast among poachers. When they neared the cave he held back and let her stride onward towards the entrance. She clicked her tongue a couple of times and waited. A great, heavy snort blew a fog of breath from out of the darkness, followed by the massive frame of the bear. It snorted again, then lowered its head to allow Paulina to scratch its ears. The vapours of steam curling up from its fur shrouded them both and caught moonlight in a halo of cold, blue radiance. 

“How can you stand to see it live?” he asked. She glanced back and her expression was unreadable. “Should I be angry because it acted according to its nature?” She petted it some more.

“I'm sorry,” he said, not for the first time.

“I know you are Leonties. Wait here, Antigonus is going to help me root out some mandrake.”

When they were gone he noticed the cold. He put down his basket of roots then stamped and clapped his hands for a bit. Finally, he drew from his pocket the letter from Hermione. The light was faint but he knew it off by heart.

My darling Leonties,

I trust you are in good health and that Paulina isn't being too stern. The cause is going well and we find new recruits every day. It's so rewarding to see peoples faces when they realise that soon they will no longer need to hide but can start a new life. Matera is beautiful but the authorities here are very cruel and it's only thanks to your reputation, (and of course famous generosity), that they are willing to dispense with their own trials and place their undesirables into our care...

He skipped the middle, not wanting to read again her description of having to fight off the assassin sent by that zealous official torturer. The battles against pirates. All those duelling classes during her formative years combined with that pragmatic Russian blood made her a dangerous woman to challenge but still, he felt faint with worry every time he read those lines. 

I will be accompanying the next group of adepts home and look forward to seeing you. As much as I love the work I miss you terribly and look forward to being in your arms again soon. Never forget the part you play in saving them my love.

Yours 

Hermione

Paulina returned with a bag of mandrakes, said her goodbyes to Antigonus and started back. As they reached the castle he slowed to a stop. “What’s wrong Leonties? We have new families to greet.”

“The children. They think I’m a monster.”  
“You are.”  
“I help save them.”  
“You do.”  
He stared at her imploringly, “What am I?”  
She drew close until there was nothing else to see except for her large greenish eyes.  
“You're my tyrant Leonties. You were a monster. Now you’re a monster that serves a purpose. Come on. Let's get inside before the soup goes cold.”


End file.
